Matching the Outside
by ChibiJazRide
Summary: Why was he just standing there with such a blank expression? He still hadn't moved, said anything. Why wasn't he? Didn't he have something to say? Didn't Romano deserve his happy ending? Warning: T for Romano's mouth and character death; One-sided Spamano


_I'm not perfect,  
__I know that.  
__No one really cares,  
__So why should I?_

_If I left, it'd be for the best.  
__One less useless person taking up space,  
__One less useless person wasting resources._

_If I'm not worth it  
__Then what is?  
__If this life is pitiful  
__Why should I stay?_

_Give me a reason,  
__Give me a sign,  
__Give me a hand,  
__Give me a chance._

_I feel like  
__I shouldn't be here.  
__I have no future,  
__My present is so bleak  
__And my past is so dull._

_I have no meaning.  
__I have no purpose.  
__I'm the useless one,  
__Pin all your dreams  
__On someone other than me_

_I'm not depressed,  
__I'm just realistic.  
__Happy endings aren't real_

_So why am I  
__Waiting for,  
__Hoping for,  
__Longing for  
__One?_

_It'll never happen,  
__So why don't I just give up now  
__Before I end up more broken than before._

_Empty memories,  
__Have no emotions,  
__If only one of them was glad,  
__If only one cared,  
__If only one noticed,  
__If only one remembered,_

_Why should I care?_

_Give me a reason,  
__Give me a sign,  
__Give me a hand,  
__Give me a chance._

~ooXoo~

Cold. That was all that South Italy felt. It was the only thing he _could_ feel. Even with the warmth of the sun beating down, cold dread filled him and his palms were wet with perspiration.

The stone path in the garden stood, cleared of all the vines and plant foliage from the garden. It was a beautiful sight really: plump, red tomatoes shone in the sun, the leafy greens and smoky browns melting together lazily to create a perfect scene…

There wasn't a good reason to feel the way he did, not a logical one in sight… yet there was. And Romano knew this fully well as he silently made his way over to one of the big Holm trees growing in Spain's garden. He usually went there to get away from the world, a small slice of his home back in Italy, since the tree was native to his country as well. But it was an unspoken ritual of sorts as well, to meet Spain under that exact tree every time he returned home from the seas.

And he would be returning today, yet again.

Romano was aware that every time the Spaniard came home, he was… different. Spain would return with wounds that needed tending, a bit worse than before each time. He could see Spain's spirit come close to diminishing in his eyes. It was nothing like how he used to be, bringing Romano little gifts from the new world with that careless smile on his face. Worst of all, Romano knew he was useless in being able to help him, he was a simple servant. A _henchman_, Spain called him.

He frowned, letting out a low sigh as he sat down beneath the broad tree. He hated this ritual, hated it with a passion… but always looked forward to it. Something in his heart told him, he does. Maybe it wasn't that bad to just accept things.

Still, he hated having to watch Spain go through all of that, although he'd never admit it. And maybe the only reason he felt that way was because Spain was the only person who cared. He was the only person who tried to get close to him, to act like an anchor in his turbulent life.

"The hell am I even thinking about this? I don't care about him!" Romano said to himself, puffing out his cheek in defiance. He stayed sitting like that for a while, arms crossed as he waited for Spain to return. It didn't take much longer.

"Roma!" The Spaniard yelled, waving as he came over to stand in front of Romano. He smiled as brightly as he could, ignoring the fact that he was covered in bruises and wounds.

"About damn time, bastard." Romano scowled standing up. Secretly, he was happy that Spain was still alive, but again, he'd never say that out loud. They stood silent for a second, "I was getting bored waiting for your stupid self."

Spain's grin died slowly at the words. "Roma, language."

"I don't fucking care!" He crossed his arms again, glaring at Spain. He could curse all he wanted to; Spain might be in charge of him, but he couldn't control his words.

Spain just sighed, muttering briefly to himself. "Ah, maybe I should have tried a bit harder to get Vene." Horrified, Romano just stared at him.

Spain was the only person he trusted, the only person he _looked up to_. Hearing that from him… "Y-you _what_?" He tightened this fists, not wanting to believe what he'd just heard coming from the Spaniards mouth. He couldn't have said that, but he had. And that sent a pang of sadness and anger through his heart, sharper than any knife.

"You heard me then?" Spain smirked a bit. "Romano, you should be more like your brother, Veneziano." He stood up a bit straighter, looking down at the Italian. The words flowing out and sounding wrong from the person saying them. The way the Spanish accent wrapped around each word and pointed themselves at Romano.

The words hurt, being compared to his own brother. He'd heard it from everyone except the man in front of him, the only person who he thought had cared for him. _That's what I get then, I thought wrong. So very, fucking, wrong._

"Be more like my airhead of a brother? Why the fuck would you say that?" Every single insecurity ran through his head, no one was really on his side. No one really cared. He was alone, just like how he thought he was.

"Because it's the truth, Romano."

_Romano_, since when did Spain call him by his full country name… He'd always been called a stupid nickname, no matter what. "Wh-what?"

"You're a _brat, _you can't you anything. _Worthless_. I have no idea why I still keep you around here. _Pathetic_."

Each word struck Romano, each one cutting away his self-esteem, making him flinch at the words he thought he'd never hear. They wouldn't stop coming, thrown out at him as if he was unimportant, and according to the words, he was. It hurt, but he wasn't going to go down a fight. His pride wouldn't let him and for some reason he thought he had to change the Spaniards mind.

"…I-I fucking know I'm not like Veneziano! I don't need to be told! I thought you'd fucking understand that! But you don't! You're just like everyone else, I should've fucking seen this coming!" He kept pouring everything out, he didn't care if Spain was listening or not. He knew he was inferior to his brother, he knew it. He always did… This- this was nothing new… "You never think about how I fucking feel do you? You never _cared_, and you never will! First, Nonno took Veneziano with him, leaving me behind, then Austria fucking handed me to you! And now, not even you care! I could never do anything right because I had cholera, dammit! Can't you for once, get something through your stupid, thick, skull?" At this point, he was crying. Romano hated it, but he couldn't keep himself from doing so. That was the last straw broken, the only person who gave a damn about him didn't. "Wh-why can't you just understand that?"

"Romano…"

"Shut up! You've proven where you fucking stand! Just leave me be, go look for my brother, bastard! He'll be happy to know you chose him! I was never fucking good enough to be the person you raised, was I? You wanted the perfect 'Italy', and got stuck with me, the fucking mess that can't do shit! Are you happy that I realized this myself? Are you?" Spain just watched him as he gave a shaky breath to calm himself. He hadn't expected Romano to vent like this. He hadn't known the boy kept so much hidden away from the world. Spain hadn't known Romano was in so much pain, hadn't known he had caused a portion of it...

"Ro-"

"I said shut up! I don't want to fucking hear lies! You said it yourself! I'm so fucking sorry I'm not like him and that I'll _never_ be like him! You don't have to fucking remind me!" Romano's vision was blurry, he could only see Spain's unmoving outline -Spain's outline that didn't move to hug him, or reassure him, that stayed quiet despite the fact of what he'd just said and didn't try to tell Romano otherwise.

He couldn't figure out what hurt more. Spain telling him to be like Veneziano… or not doing anything to reassure him…

Spain moved closer to him, lifting a hand up, but letting it drop to his side. Confusion flashed across Romano's face, but he quickly masked it with his anger. Anger and depression that not even his caretaker accepted him. "Romano, you're mistaken. Why would you think tha-?"

"Shut up! You said everything yourself! You… you just proved what I didn't want to believe. And when the hell did you start calling me _Romano_?" Romano swung out at Spain's shoulder, who easily caught his wrist and held it.

"You hate my nicknames for you, Romano. Why would I call you otherwise?"

_Because you recognize me as someone… because I'm part of your family… because I- Dammit, because I actually like it…_

"…B-because you always do, bastard! No matter what the fuck I say, you still fucking do!" He tried to yank his arm away, but Spain always was stronger than him and stayed in his spot.

"Then that's your fault isn't it? Little Vene likes his nicknames," Spain said pulling Romano close to him. "why can't you?"

A blush spread across Romano's cheeks. What was Spain trying to pull this time? "The hell are you doing?"

Spain just hummed. "Is it wrong to hug you?"

"Y-yes, dammit! Let me go!" Spain pulled Romano closer, hovering inches above Romano's face. Romano just stared at him with his angry scowl still on his face. "Oi, fucking let me go!"

Keeping Romano's head still with his hand Spain kept talking, "Why should I? You look pretty nice this close to me…" Watching his panicked face, Spain let out a chuckle. "Something wrong?"

"Y-you pervert!" He kept struggling away, doing anything possible to get away. "You don't fucking care, you never did! Why the hell are you doing this? You said it yourself, you fucking said it yourself!"

He smirked, "Not even a little kiss for my Romano?" Spain started to lean in. "Don't you want even one thing to be good at? Anything to not feel worthless?" He let out another sadistic chuckle. "Everyone knows you are, you said it yourself. You're _worthless_, Romano." There were the words again, leaving him raw, exposed, helpless.

"…I- I am not…"

"Going back on your own word?"

"…" Romano stayed quiet, gaze fixed to the ground. He could see the edge of a broken down flower under Spain's shoe, half of the petals crushed underneath his boot.

"Te comió la lengua el gato? Say something Romano."

"…B-bastard, how can I fucking say something," Romano pushed at Spain's chest, making them both stumble back a few steps. They stared at each other, daring the other to move as Romano kept going. "if you think I'm so useless? Why the fuck _did_ you keep me? Why didn't you just throw me away like everyone else did and love my brother? If you think so low of me, then why the fuck am I still here? If everyone prefers my brother, why am I still here having to fucking suffer? I hate it, I hate him, I hate you!"

Romano stood panting, wasn't Spain going to do something? Tell him it was okay? Tell him he preferred him to Veneziano? Why was he just standing there with such a blank expression?

The wind that had slowly picked up rustled past them, only adding to the moment. Spain still hadn't moved, said anything. Why wasn't he? Didn't he have something to say? Didn't he deserve his happy ending?

"Maybe I should have chosen to take little Veneziano, he would have been less trouble than you. He wouldn't have caused so many messes. You… you're a disgrace." Spain still had the smirk on his face, but it was turning into scowl. Romano felt his own scowl slip off. Did… did Spain really think that…?

"I always knew I was alone…" Romano muttered. He sighed in defeat, shoulders drooping. The last person who was there for him… finally left him. Just like how he'd thought it'd happen. He knew the Spanish man would get bored of him, forget him… and for some reason he still had the hope that maybe, just maybe Spain was different. He wasn't. _I was wrong, oh so fucking wrong._ He felt like he was repeating himself, and maybe he was. But he didn't care, not anymore. He only had himself in the world. "…What did I do to deserve this?" _Being born? Was my being born the reason I deserve being alone?_

He tried to run away, tried to leave, but Spain was too fast and once again caught his wrist. He twisted Romano around and made him stay facing towards him. The look of shock on Romano's face quickly turned into something else… into fear… and it didn't stop him.

Spain smirked, "Don't think you'll get away that easily."

"I'll get away if I fucking want to! Now let me go!" Romano thrashed violently around, but the force of Spain's arm on his waist didn't leave enough room to escape. He felt his wrist start to bruise from the strength of the other's grip…

This- this wasn't Spain… it was a monster… The Spain he knew hadn't returned, the one who returned was nothing like the happy idiot that was always doting on him. It wasn't like he was worried, and Spain's sword hanging at his side wasn't helping calm his nerves, but he knew he was trying to reassure himself.

The way the silver of the sword glowed almost angelically and innocently, wasn't comforting in the least. He couldn't take his eyes off of the shining metal, it was hypnotizing, both in a good way and a bad one. It was a reminder that Spain had always protected him, but that he could easily crush anyone he turned it on.

"Why are you pulling away? Don't you want attention like this? Hm? Dime, isn't this what you wanted?" Spain's voice had long since gone lower, taking on a darker tone. A tone that Romano had never heard directed at him, a tone that Spain only used with people he considered enemies, threats… rivals.

"I-I never…" He felt weak, weaker than he usually did, all fight gone from his voice at hearing Spain's tone. He hung his head, he had no purpose. Romano kept his gaze on the sword, if no one wanted him… even Spain didn't even want him… what was there to live for? His perfect brother could do everything better than him, he wasn't needed to his own sibling. He sighed. "Not this way…"

They let the words sit there, the atmosphere around seeming to help them swirl and twist their way around the two motionless countries standing together. It was silent for a while, each one taking in the spoken thoughts. Romano couldn't see Spain's face, and in a way, he was glad he couldn't. It would've only hurt him worse.

"Roma-"

"Sh-shut up." Spain's grasp had slackened, enough for Romano to move away. And he did, gaze still lowered. "I… I should leave."

He turned again, only to be caught; this time, the hand on his wrist seemed gentler. "No, wait."

Spain turned him, so that they were facing each other. "Ro-"

"How many times… how many times do I need to say 'shut up'? I-I don't want to hear it." Romano's tone had grown soft. He had accepting what the world had given him, he was just a leftover. He didn't matter.

"Romano, li-"

"No! I don't want to! You've said enough! You've done your damage!" He snapped his head up, tears stained his face, but his eyes shone with anger. "What else do you want? There isn't anything left to say!"

"No, please just listen t-"

"Stop it! I don't- I- Just stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Romano covered his ears. Why couldn't Spain stop? He'd damaged Romano more than enough, there wasn't anything left…

"Romano! I-"

"Leave me. The fuck. _Alone_." Spain stood frozen as Romano launched himself forward to grab the sword from it's shield. He managed to pull it out, but Spain was quick to stop him.

"What are you doing? Romano, stop this!" He tugged the sword back towards him, turning it to the side so it wasn't pointing at anyone.

Romano grit his teeth, harshly wiping his fist across his damp eyes. "Leaving."

"You don't need my sword for that."

"What do you know? You don't care!"

"Roma-"

The sword swayed between them, pointing towards Romano, then to Spain as each one tried to take control.

"I hate you!"

"Romano, listen, please. You don't mean-"

"Yes, I do!" Spain stopped, gripping the hilt harder. The tip of the sword shone as it pointed towards Romano. Romano's eyes were still lit with fire, his own hands keeping a tight grip on the hilt as well. "…You don't care, you never did."

"Romano, I didn't-" He never had the chance to finish, Romano didn't let him.

"I fucking hate you!" Romano screamed, tears had still been making their slow way down his face. "I. Hate. You!"

Romano threw himself forward again; his eyes suddenly went wide, mouth forming an 'o' of shock…

"Romano!" Spain watched as his own blade came out of Romano's back, liquid red staining it. Disbelief painted itself in all it's hues over his face. Romano's arms had left the hilt and flung themselves up, eyes fluttering shut. Spain could feel them land around his neck. He could hear Romano's heavy breathing against his ear.

Romano wasn't… he couldn't-

Moments was all it had taken. Romano was at his last second.

And a gasp of something was the last thing escaping his lips…

~ooXoo~

He sighed, whether in regret or sadness he didn't know, but weren't they the same…? Spain slid the sword out, feeling Romano fall limp against him and it made him drop the weapon to the ground below. He couldn't make himself look down, he feared that looking at the crimson spot growing on Romano's clothes would break him down… more so than he already was…

He let out a shaky breath. He had been planning to tell Romano his feelings for a while, even though he knew the boy didn't feel the same. The harshness of his words had surprised him, not at all what he had wanted to converse. How had they even strayed to such a topic he knew was sensitive to his subordinate? Why did he even continue adding mounds of salt to his wounds, destroying what little trust Romano had installed in the only person he was close to?

He frowned at the house in the distance, wrapping a strong arm around the boys motionless body. He was going to get blood on himself, but he didn't care. He could only care that his house was going to be colder, quieter than it should. And it would never go back to how it was.

Romano was gone, killed by Spain's own sword. And nothing he wanted to do now could ever make him come back. He was gone forever and it was Spain's fault, whether he intended to do it, or not.

"Discúlpame, mi amor. Pero sabia que no sientes lo mismo... Eso- no-…." He whispered in the dark caramel hair tickling at his chin. "That- that wasn't supposed to happen…"

He'd never be able to him, or know for that matter, how he felt. He knew Romano didn't feel that way about him anyways. Spain was only a father figure… and that would never change.

"Discúlpame…"

"_Shut up!_"

If only Spain could make those words stop echoing in his mind. Or change them… He'd always regret this. Taking someone's life… taking the life of someone he cared about, even if was accidental. Even if it seemed to be what Romano had wanted. "Discúlpame."

He couldn't cry, not that he didn't feel like it. He wanted to, he thought he should have been crying. Either way, Spain just kept holding the body close to him, staring off into nothingness. Accidental, he had to keep thinking this. He would never have plunged his own sword into someone he cared for so deeply… He shouldn't have said any of those things in the beginning…

"_I fucking hate you!_"

"I hate myself, too…"

"_I. Hate. You!_"

"…I-… Te amo, Roma…"

~ooXoo~

_If I could go  
__Back to the start,  
__I'd change one thing._

_And the thing I'd change  
__Would be being born._

_Maybe then,  
__I wouldn't cause  
__Trouble to those around me…_

_I've been dead inside, and now my outside finally matches…_

* * *

**Translations:**

_**Te comió la lengua el gato?- **_**Cat ate your tongue? (Spanish)**_**  
Discúlpame, mi amor. Pero sabia que no sientes lo mismo... Eso- no-….-**_** Forgive me, my love. But I knew you didn't feel the same... That... wasn't... (Spanish)****  
****  
**


End file.
